Missing, Presumed Lost
by Danel
Summary: When both the Scooby Gang and Angel Investigations go missing, the only ones left able to track them down are Dawn Summers and Steven Holtz. 12/09/02: Chapter 2 Added
1. Prologue

Missing, Presumed Lost (Prologue/?)

By Danel(danel@fanfiction.net)

PG-13, I think

Arriving home from school to find both the house and the Magic Box wrecked and no one in sight, Dawn rings Angel for help. Meanwhile, in LA, Connor finds Holtz missing, but when he storms the Hyperion he finds it similarly ransacked and deserted. That's when the 'phone rings.

Spoilers:  Starts during Seeing Red(BtVS) and Benediction(AtS), but certain events, which occurred later, still take place. Most of Seasons 6 and 3, basically.

Disclaimer: I suppose I should do one myself… none of these characters are mine, which should really shock no one. However, I'm just using them for a little while. I won't hurt them. Well, not too much at least…

Author's Note: Thanks to Karen for letting me use the central concept (of everyone but Dawn and Connor going missing). Thanks also to Alea, for some support, and again to Karen for beta'ing and being very kind.

**Prologue**

Summers' Residence, Sunnydale, California 

Dawn walked jauntily towards the door, whistling tunelessly. She was very glad that school was finally over for the day – it seemed like this day would never end. She cautioned herself not to think things like that. It wouldn't do if something 'overheard' and decided to take her up on it. She got to her front door, and was astonished when it swung open to her touch.

Most teenage girls would have written that off as 'just one of those things' and not worried, but Dawn Summers wasn't a normal girl. In Sunnydale you had to rely on your instincts and the split second warnings to give you the heads up before things hit the fan. She carefully pushed the door open the rest of the way, fully alert. As she looked into the house, she realised that something was _very_ wrong.

It looked like there had been a battle here – which had, unfortunately, a good chance of being true. And it was far too quiet. Dawn felt sick – the physical illness that comes when tension and fear combine in large quantities. She reminded herself to breathe and then began moving forward through the house, part of her ready for what she might see, part of hoping and praying that it wouldn't be so. 

There was no one around. She wanted to call out but knew that that might be the worst thing she could do. She checked the living room, then moved over to her sister's weapons chest. She slung it open and rifled through to find something sharp while watching behind her the whole time, just in case. An axe… perfect. 

She dropped her bag by the chest and picking up the axe swung 'round, holding it defensively in front of her. She walked towards the kitchen, watching and listening for anything out of the ordinary – or anything at all. She felt cold, far too cold.   
The kitchen was in a slightly better state than the main room, but had still been damaged by whatever had happened here. Dawn's practiced eye skimmed over the room – some people would just think this was a robbery or vandalism, but it clearly wasn't. The mess was a result of collisions, not wilful damage.

The downstairs was clear – damaged, but nothing and no one there. That just left the upstairs, and the- 

She'd try upstairs first.

As she moved up the stairs, her footfalls seemed unnaturally loud. Worse still, she was finding it harder to breathe again – she almost hoped she'd find something up here(oh please god no) so that she wouldn't have to go down into the-

Her head swam. She reached out to the banister with one hand to steady herself and, with a sharp crack which seemed almost deafeningly loud in the oppressive silence that had preceded it the banister snapped off. Dawn wobbled, caught horribly off balance. Desperately she threw herself forward, clinging to the stairs in front of her like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood. 

  
She didn't know how long she stayed like that, curled up and gripping the stairs, but it felt like forever. As soon as she felt able to move she crawled upstairs and got to her feet, shivering desperately, her axe still clasped loosely in one hand. Willow's door wasn't just open but shattered, almost falling from its hinges. She hurried into the room, looking around for signs of life or even death. Clearly, someone had been using magic here – in places, the walls were charred from blasts of fire – could that have been Tara? Then she noticed a spot of red on the wall. Blood. Her breath caught, and she hurried over to examine it. Wet… it was still fairly fresh. But there was nobody(no body) here. Had they got away? But why would they have left, if they beat the demon? 

She hurried out of Willow's room and quickly searched the other rooms on the upper level. They seemed to be untouched – presumably the only fight upstairs had taken place in Willow's room. But she should still check out-

Dawn rushed downstairs, worry for her family now overriding her terror of the dark, silent basement.She threw the basement door open, peered quickly in – nothing wrong, nothing disturbed, nothing to worry about – then withdrew and slammed it shut. Hard. 

Now what?

Bolthole of Daniel Holtz, Los Angeles 

"Dad, I'm back!"

The voice of Steven Holtz echoed ominously through the small building.

"I'm sorry that I'm a little later than… Dad? Dad? Where are you?" 

He looked around, beginning to panic. The room had been damaged – it wasn't exactly something out of 'House and Garden' but his father had always been almost obsessively tidy – "The state of a man's home reflects the state of a man's soul," – and something was clearly wrong here. Something was on the wall… Steven noticed some kind of strange markings and writings, in no language that his father had ever taught him. Could it be a demon tongue? But who would want to hurt-

Angelus.

Steven snarled. It had been lies, all lies. The demon had tricked him while he plotted to steal his true father. He turned and stormed out of the building, heading back towards the hotel at tremendous speeds born of rage and adrenaline.

Sunnydale 

_Spike_, thought Dawn. _I should get Spike_. She turned towards the door and then she stopped sharply. It was beginning to get dark – she'd been in the house longer than she'd thought – and the cemetery was no place to be at night for anyone other than vampires or Slayers. Especially not with something on the loose which had done _this_… Dawn shuddered involuntarily. Spike would find her, if he was okay. Of course he would be. Nothing could hurt Spike. She should head to the Magic Box – and quickly, before it got too dark.

She grabbed the spare keys from the stand in the hall and then carefully closed the door behind her. The sky was blazing, blood red, and she quickly hurried through the quiet streets before the demons began to crawl from the woodwork, so to speak.

 The streets tended to be at their quietest just before sundown and the air shimmered with the feeling of the calm before the storm. Dawn started running some way before the Magic Box, but managed to reach it without incident. She pushed the door open, breathing rapidly to overcome her exhaustion – then her eyes widened as she saw what had happened here.   
The Magic Box was just as devastated as her house, maybe even more so. Shelves had been toppled to the floor, portions of the wall were charred and bent as though hit by some kind of extreme magical backlash. The ladder leading to the loft, which contained the dangerous materials, had been snapped viciously off and was lying in splinters next to the table. Dawn began to get very frightened. 

Just what could have done this? There was no sign of anyone, living or dead, and the door to the training room hung open. She hurried through and found it similarly deserted. The weapons were strewn over the floor, the punching bag had been ripped from its hook, and was broken open, its stuffing covering the floor. She walked back out into the main room and, as she did so, something on the wall caught her eye. Up to now Dawn had assumed it was more battle damage, now she noticed it was definitely deliberate markings – some kind of symbols or demonic language that she didn't recognise.

Dawn assessed the problems – the house and the Magic Box wrecked, everyone missing, and strange markings on the floor and walls…

She needed help. 

  
_Angel._

She walked behind the counter and checked the auto-dial for Angel's number. It was one of the last ones on the menu– rarely used, but something that could be needed rapidly in an emergency. She picked up the phone and pressed the button when she heard the dial tone.

Angel Investigations, Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles 

Steven kicked the doors open and strode into the hotel lobby, holding his dagger in one hand and a stake in the other. He'd been ready to see anything – except for the sight that greeted him. 

The hotel was just as damaged as his father's place had been, perhaps even more so, clearly a major fight had happened here. There was some blood, scattered over the floor – vampire, demon and human blood.  He frowned in consternation, as that also neatly described those who stayed at the hotel it told him nothing about who had done this. 

  
Perhaps he had been wrong to assume it was Angelus who had kidnapped his father – it seemed that whoever had done so had also attacked the people at the hotel. For a moment Steven was pleased that they hadn't gone down without a fight, then he chided himself for thinking such things. What was it to him if the demon and his friends had fought well? It hadn't mattered, anyway – they had clearly been overwhelmed and-

A harsh, loud ringing cut through the silence of the empty hotel and derailed Steven's train of thought. He jumped, looking about him for the source of the sound and ready for an attack at any moment. It didn't seem to come from a demon – he followed the sound into one of the side rooms ('offices' , one of Angelus' friends had called them) and tracked it to an object on the desk.

Now he knew where it was coming from, the sound no longer seemed harsh. It was instead almost pathetic, like a wounded demon begging for mercy. Steven decided to listen to this device, to give in to its pleas. He picked up the separate part, as Cordelia had done when she was showing him around, and spoke into it.

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless."

END OF PROLOGUE


	2. Chapter 1: Travels and Travails

Missing, Presumed Lost (1/?)

By Danel(danel@fanfiction.net)

PG-13, I think

Arriving home from school to find both the house and the Magic Box wrecked and no one in sight, Dawn rings Angel for help. Meanwhile, in LA, Connor finds Holtz missing, but when he storms the Hyperion he finds it similarly ransacked and deserted. That's when the 'phone rings.

Spoilers:  Starts during Seeing Red(BtVS) and Benediction(AtS), but certain events, which occurred later, still take place. Most of Seasons 6 and 3, basically.

Disclaimer: I suppose I should do one myself… none of these characters are mine, which should really shock no one. However, I'm just using them for a little while. I won't hurt them. Well, not too much at least…

Author's Note: Thanks to Karen for letting me use the central concept (of everyone but Dawn and Connor going missing). Thanks also to Karen again for beta'ing the thing again, and to anyone who reviewed last time. Please do so again.

Chapter 1: Travels and Travails 

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless."

"Angel?"

"I'm afraid not – Angel isn't here."

Dawn blinked. She'd been sure that the voice on the other end was Angel, but perhaps it wasn't so. She really wanted to talk to _Angel, _not to someone she didn't know. This was urgent. "Well, where is he?"

It was very suspicious, Steven thought. Everyone is missing and then this girl asks to speak to Angel. It didn't seem she would be prepared to listen to his excuses, either. "I don't know, I'm afraid."

"Well, is Cordelia there?"

The reply came far too fast. Whoever she was, this girl clearly knew the Angel Investigations team. How could he reply is she kept asking questions like this? "No, I'm afraid she isn't here either."

  
Dawn was becoming frustrated now. If things kept on like this, she'd be here all night. "Well, can you tell me who _is _there?"

Steven panicked. How could he hide the fact that they were all gone from someone who seemed to know them all? He had no other choice… as if in a dream he heard his voice saying: "Actually, most of the people are missing. What was it that you wanted?"

_What? _Thought Dawn. Missing? "Who is this?"

Steven was confused now. It seemed that by telling her what had happened he'd just made her even more suspicious. He forced himself to think logically about this. The girl on the other end of the telephone knew Angel, but she didn't seem like a dangerous type – it almost sounded like she was his age. It was extremely unlikely that her life had been _anything _like his. Most people in this world seemed to know nothing at all about demons or vampires, not even that they existed. In fact, most seemed to actively deny such things could be possible. Of course, there were some who knew – like Angelus' friends – but this girl seemed far too young for that. Her voice was pleasant; she was probably just someone who had heard of Angelus or used to know him some time ago. She probably didn't even know he was a vampire! In that case, it was unlikely that she would be too persistent. He wondered what she wanted, but merely said: "My name is Steven Holtz. I…" There was the slightest hesitation before he continued, which Dawn barely noticed. "…work at Angel Investigations." Steven didn't like lying, but a minor lie was probably for the best in this case. 

Dawn blinked again, and felt her mouth drop open with shock. Angel and his team were _as well?_ She took the receiver away from her ear and squinted at it suspiciously. Although at first she had thought that the voice on the other end was Angel, having listened for a bit longer it became clear that he was _much _younger – perhaps even as young as she was. And as for that hesitation before he continued… as practiced as Dawn was at lying to Buffy, she recognised someone thinking up a quick fib. But what did it mean, really? She doubted that a burglar or kidnapper would pick up the phone, let alone give her as much information as he had done.

"You say that everyone is missing?"

When he replied in the affirmative, Dawn sighed and continued. 

"My name is Dawn Summers. My older sister is an old friend of Angel. I wanted to ring for help because everyone is missing here too…" She went with a hunch. "Is there writing on the wall there?"

When she mentioned the markings Steven's eyes widened and then narrowed as his interest was piqued. If there were more people missing, not just Angelus and his father… Indeed, if they knew Angelus, it was possible that they were unusual and supernatural themselves… but that didn't mean this girl knew anything about it.

She sounded scared – Steven could understand and sympathise with that because he too felt worried for his father. How much worse would it be for a girl who hadn't grown up in the Quor-Toth, and had everyone she knew disappear? When she mentioned the markings, his eyes widened. It seemed that they _were _connected – but what could have done this, and in such a short space of time as well? The people of Angel Investigations may be fools who collaborated with demons, but they weren't weak. That they had been overwhelmed seemed to indicate a large group, but why?  What purpose has been served by their capture and the capture of his father and this girl's family? "There is, but it is like no writing I have ever seen. One of the most repeated symbols is a line pointing into a circle. Are the markings where you are the same?"

Dawn looked at the wall carefully. Indeed, that symbol was common – it looked something like a rotated 'Q', but with the line entering the middle of the circle. It reminded Dawn of something, faintly, but she couldn't think of what. She shrugged, it wasn't important – what mattered now was working out what had happened. Her priority had to be finding her missing family and friends and _then _they could swing into research mode. If that meant that Dawn and a junior AI staffer had to save everyone… so be it. 

A smile tugged at the corners of Dawn's lips for the first time in a while. She wondered what this 'Steven' looked like – he really _did _sound something like a younger Angel, and Dawn liked to be able to put faces to voices. She buried the musing quickly as she replied with a "Yes," and then began to furiously think of a workable plan of action. 

 Dawn knew her way around LA fairly well from when she used to live there(well, she _remembered _living there at least) and from summers spent with her dad. However, she didn't know where Angel's new base was – Buffy had dragged her along to the old one once, but she'd heard that it had been blown up.

This presented an obvious problem – however, if Steven knew and worked with Angel, he probably knew his way around LA as well, if not better, than she did – yet she doubted he knew his way around Sunnydale at all, and Sunnydale Bus Station wasn't a place where anyone should wait. This meant he couldn't come to her… but she could go to him – while the Bus Station that the buses from Sunnydale ended up in wasn't the prettiest place, especially after dark, it was considerably safer than its Sunnydale counterpart. Especially for people with large weapons.

"Do you know the Crescent Bus Station?"

Steven blinked at the surprising comment. As it happened, he _did _know most of the bus stations and other major land marks in LA – it had seemed prudent to learn his way around the strange city in which he had found himself. The Crescent was a rather minor one – it was where a few buses that went to smaller towns outside the city boundaries ended up. If the girl – Dawn, he reminded himself – wanted him to know the station, it seemed to indicate that she was planning to meet him there.

"I know the Crescent." He replied. "Do you want me to meet you there?"

He reminded himself not to judge this girl on what he could hear. For all he knew, it could be one of whatever it was that had captured everyone trying to acquire the final piece, perhaps toying with him a little by pretending to be an ally of his own age. He'd known several demons in the Quor-Toth that liked to do things like that, and he was prepared for a trap. He'd take a better weapon, perhaps – while a stake was good, it only had one use, and a sword or axe could kill vampires just as well and also be useful against demons. Angelus presumably had a supply of weaponry in this building – it would be appropriate to use them to defend himself. 

"Would you? I don't know the way to the Hotel, and I want to look at the writing on the wall there. We need to find everyone – if we're the only ones left, everyone is depending on us. I'll meet you at the bus station in about… four hours?"

It would take about that long to get to the Bus Station and take the ride, but one of them but probably get there a while before the other – Dawn wasn't exactly sure _when _the buses left, and traffic could add quite a lot to the time. Four hours was a decent estimate at this point. Of course, Steven _had _lied earlier, and there would probably be danger in LA… she should take some stuff for protection.

Well, what she said _seemed _to be sensible.

"That seems okay. You're right – we have to put a stop to this."

Four hours… enough time to take a quick trip around some of the usual demon haunts, see if he spotted something out of place. And of course, killing some demons would make him feel better – and was a good service in general.

* * * * *

_Backpack or travelling bag? _Dawn thought.

A backpack would be easier to carry, but could hold much less. On the other hand, she could take more in a travelling bag, but it would be that much harder if she got into a fight. What did she need to take, anyway? She should get some things from the Magic Box before she got other stuff at home.

She'd need… some stakes – three would be a good number. And a vial of holy water… perhaps a medium sized one. And she could keep a cross around her neck. Also… well, she couldn't carry her lucky axe on to the bus, and it wouldn't fit into her backpack… so travelling bag it was.

She let her gaze drift around the wrecked shop thoughtfully. Perhaps a finding spell would come in handy as well… she had a book full of simple spells, things that she'd started to learn.  She wasn't very good, and she'd had to put her learning on hold after Willow's problems, but she should be able to handle a finding spell if she was careful. She began to move around the store gathering general, basic supplies as she thought. It would make things easier if she cast her spells in LA, too - the Hellmouth tended to complicate matters, making spells more powerful – sometimes uncontrollably so.

She continued moving around the shop and let her mind consider more practical, everyday items…some money, a change of clothing, of course (who knows how long she'd be there) and clean underwear… if she was in LA for that long, she could always buy more… after all, there were some excellent clothing stores in the city. And perhaps a protective amulet for luck. Dawn remembered Anya crowing about the lovely new protective amulets that she'd recently got a deal for – they were the best, most professional and all around trustworthy magical trinket company in the country, if not the western hemisphere, and Anya had been really pleased to get a good deal on how much she paid for them. They still had a pride of place display, and in the battle that had taken place here earlier it had been upset, the bracelets and pendants scattered all over the floor, some crushed underfoot. Dawn picked out one of those that hadn't been, a bracelet with a little tag around it saying "MAGIC PROTECTIVE BRACELET, $15".

She shrugged – she couldn't exactly pay for it now, she'd need her money – she'd have to pay Anya back later. She ripped off the tag and pushed it onto her wrist. Then she grabbed a carrier from behind the counter and stuffed the spellbook, ingredients and holy water inside before picking up her axe and hurrying home.

* * * * *

Back Alleys, Los Angeles 

Steven charged down the darkened, dingy alleyways in hot pursuit of the demon he had been tracking. He knew this type, but not by name – they tended to hang around in the nastier parts of the city, preying on homeless people and others who wouldn't be missed. They could talk, but weren't exactly smart, and were fairly easy targets – their only real weapons were their claws and greater than human strength. The boy's mouth stretched into a mirthless grin. Well, greater than human… but less than Steven's.

He'd taken the opportunity when he was in the hotel to break off the padlock from Angelus' weapons cabinet and choose a nice, finely crafted broadsword (He had no idea that it was also Angel's favourite – if he had, he might have chosen differently.). He'd managed to wound the demon already, having surprised it as it crept up on an unsuspecting homeless man – the creature had shrieked, a noise which had terrified the lucky down-and-out and even managed to chill Steven's blood, and ran for its miserable life.

It left a trail of foul smelling purple blood behind it, and it was slowing down as the wound began to affect its strength. Steven threw himself forward with a burst of speed, sensing the end of the battle; he swung the sword in a narrow arc which put a shallow cut into the fleeing demon's back – it stiffened as it felt the blade's bite, and turned to face him with a growl, swiping at him with its claws. Steven dodged backwards, far faster than any normal human would have been able to; in the same move he whirled his sword around, neatly decapitating the beast. The head bounced off a wall, then rolled into a stack of boxes before disintegrating into a gooey puddle. The body followed suit and Steven walked over to a stack of cardboard boxes and wiped off his sword on a clean piece of the discarded paper.

 The fight over, he began to calm – then tensed as he sensed another otherworldly presence nearby. It really was about time that he should be leaving to meet Dawn, but he couldn't just leave a demon behind… he moved silently forward towards the source of the evil vibes. As he approached a gap in the alley wall, the presence became much stronger – he looked carefully around the corner. To his surprise, he saw not one, but two of the 'Homeless Eaters', one of them was rising from its nest in a stack of garbage and cartons, whilst furiously berating the other.

"This is my patch of city! Keep out, or I'll rip you apart!"

"I'm too hungry! There aren't any wild humans in my old hunting grounds anymore."

The first one – the nesting demon – looked disgusted. "Only because you were too greedy or lazy. If you kill too many you'll scare 'em all away, idiot."

"No, I didn't! It was great, but a few weeks ago they all started vanishing. There aren't enough anymore, they're all old and tasteless."

"This is _my _hunting ground! Leave!"

The first demon began snarling and growling and Steven shook himself out of his semi-stupor. The second one had its back to him, and the first one was distracted. He wouldn't get a better chance.

He leapt forward, bringing the sword upward in a ripping stroke that sliced the demon's arm off at the shoulder – the limb fell to the floor and liquefied as the demon shrieked in pain. The first one was still motionless, shocked and surprised, and Steven lunged forward, plunging the sword deep into the second demon's back before it could even turn. The demon yowled for a few moments, then went still, and as the first finally recovered and leapt at him, the remains of the second slid to the floor, already liquefied.

Steven brought the sword up, dealing the first demon a sharp blow on its head with the flat of the sword even as he staggered back himself. He toppled over, unbalanced, but recovered quickly, yet the first demon refused to press the advantage, instead hovering warily by its nest. Steven crouched low; the sword held neatly to one side and grinned as he felt the exhilaration of battle rush through him. He feinted forward; the demon tensed up – then he leapt backwards and swung the sword low at the same time. It sliced into the demon's ankle – surprised, the demon wobbled for a second. Steven pulled the sword back, and charged forward, pushing the sword before him. The wounded demon was caught off guard by the savagery of the attack, and tried to step backwards, putting too much weight on its damaged leg as it did so. It fell backwards over its bad leg knocking hard into the wall with Steven on top, stabbing fiercely with the sword. The demon, panicking, tried to slash at him with its claws, but it was effectively pinned, and Steven barely felt the minor graze that it managed to give him. The battle ended quickly – one moment Steven was stabbing frantically at the struggling demon, the next he was covered in demon slime and stabbing into boxes. 

He scrambled to his feet, barely even breathing heavily, and shook off the excess ick, remembering to wipe his sword clean on the trash before he moved on. As he did so he stiffened, remembering with a heartfelt groan his earlier appointment – he was going to be late! He took off in the direction of Crescent Station as fast as he could run.

* * * * *

Crescent Bus Station, Los Angeles 

The Sunnydale bus arrived with a _fwhoosh_, and Dawn was one of the first people off. She carried a travelling bag by her side containing her stuff, and was ready to take on anything. 

It was a shame that she was about twenty minutes early, the bus having left Sunnydale earlier than she'd thought, and there had been a surprising lack of traffic on the way to LA. She didn't really expect to Steven to be here yet and, spying a bench, walked over to sit down and wait. A boy about her age walked up to her – he was a little taller than she was, and looked able to take care of himself. Was this who she was looking for?

"Are you Steven?" she asked.

The boy nodded and Dawn smiled.

"It's good to see you. Will you lead the way, then? Don't worry, I am Dawn."

Steven walked briskly off towards one of the exits and Dawn followed.

"Hey, you're early. Why's that?"

"I had nothing better to do," Steven replied.

His voice didn't sound much like it had on the phone, but she had always had problems recognising people's 'telephone voices'. As they walked out of the doors, however, Dawn stopped, and reached down to her bag, saying casually, "I'm thirsty."

She pulled out a bottle of spring water and uncapped it. As she raised it towards her mouth, however, she fumbled it – and some spilled over 'Steven' – who screamed in agonising pain, and vamped out.

Dawn smiled grimly. 

"Looks like you were thirsty too."

The vamp leapt at her, growling in hunger and anger, before she could reach her bag and a stake or her axe. Dawn cried in pain as the vampire twisted her arm behind her back, and the bottle of holy water tumbled to the floor, spilling over the sidewalk. The vampire moved in towards her neck, breathing heavily in anticipation. Dawn dimly registered in her mind it must be still a young vampire to still connect breath and emotion. She tried desperately to wriggle loose, managing to get one hand up towards her neck, hoping to shove her necklace in his face before he could bite her. Then she cried in surprise as the vampire screamed in pain and abruptly released her. She fell to the ground; instinct allowing her to roll over and land sprawled on her back facing her rescuer as he squared up to the vampire.

To her surprise he was a teenaged boy, at most a year older than she was. She stared as she registered that he was dressed very oddly – looking out of place in strangely coloured leather and fur and covered liberally in what was either paint or demon blood. His hair was messy, with one side stuck to the scalp by purple goop. In his hands he held a large broadsword, and as she continued to stare he charged at the vampire yelling an unintelligible battle cry.

Steven hadn't expected to find a vampire trying to eat a young woman just outside the bus station – vampires usually preferred to do their work in quieter places where they weren't likely to be surprised as they fed. It suggested that this vampire was young and inexperienced – he could make this quick. He'd cut the vampire's back, so it was already wounded.

He lashed forward with the sword again, catching the vampire a savage cut along the front of his body. The vampire howled – but in rage, not pain – and sprang forward, hitting him on his sword arm with enough strength to numb and lunging for his throat. Steven cursed his foolishness – the vampire had been so near to feeding that its youth mattered little – it was high on sheer thirst and bloodlust. He managed to push the demon back with his spare arm, but he could do nothing for the sword, which toppled from his frozen fingers and he was forced to jump back to avoid it cutting at his legs.

The enraged vampire didn't care about such things, and carried on pressing his advantage, grabbing Steven's hands with his own and leaning forward towards his neck. Steven tried to kick him, but the vamp kept on pushing forward so that Steven overbalanced, taking them both to the floor. The vampire slowly overpowered him, moving towards his neck… and then exploded into a surprised shower of dust. Steven gasped as the dust rained down on him and stuck to the demon blood from earlier.

As the air above him cleared, Steven saw his rescuer – the young woman he'd saved from the vampire's initial attack. He was also surprised to see that she seemed even younger than he was. There was determination in her pretty face (where had _that_ come from?) and she had neatly decapitated the vampire with a nice-looking axe.

Steven just looked at hertaking in the things he hadn't had the time to notice before.Her clothes seemed normal, from what he'd seen so far of this world. The only really eye-catching things about her were the weird bracelet on her right wrist and the cross hanging loose outside her top. Yet there was _something _about her… the way she carried herself, or perhaps the way she moved – that called to a part of him that he had never knew existed. A part that wanted more than anything to respond.

It wasn't as if Steven had never met girls his own age before – since he'd met Sunny after he first arrived here, he had talked to several, usually those he had saved from demon attacks… but never any like this. For one thing, he couldn't imagine any of the other girls calmly beheading a vampire… and then _smiling _at him as she was doing now.

Dawn felt a smile spreading over her face but, try as she might, she couldn't stop it. He looked so surprised – as if he found it unsporting for the damsel in distress to save _him_. His surprise and confusion really made him look even more attractive – his eyes wide with but filled with suspicion also. Dawn reflected that she was probably the only girl in the world who could find a boy covered in dust and demon blood attractive.

"Who are you?" the boy asked, warily.

She dropped the axe to her side, still grinning widely, but determined not to make the same mistake twice.

"My name's Dawn, Dawn Summers. Yours?"

The boy nodded as if satisfied, then extended his hand to meet hers and shook it, solemnly. "Hello, Dawn. I am Steven Holtz."

_Good._ Dawn thought. Unless the whole thing was a set-up, this boy was safe. "Well, Steven Holtz," she said. "It's nice to meet you at last. Now I think it's time we got to work – don't you agree?"

END OF CHAPTER 1


	3. Chapter 2: Friends and Questions

Missing, Presumed Lost (2/?)

By Danel(danel@fanfiction.net)

PG-13, I think

Arriving home from school to find both the house and the Magic Box wrecked and no one in sight, Dawn rings Angel for help. Meanwhile, in LA, Connor finds Holtz missing, but when he storms the Hyperion he finds it similarly ransacked and deserted. That's when the 'phone rings.

Spoilers: Starts during Seeing Red(BtVS) and Benediction(AtS), but certain events, which occurred later, still take place. Most of Seasons 6 and 3, basically.

Disclaimer: I suppose I should do one myself… none of these characters are mine, which should really shock no one. However, I'm just using them for a little while. I won't hurt them. Well, not too much at least…

Author's Note: Thanks to Karen for letting me use the central concept (of everyone but Dawn and Connor going missing). Thanks also to Alea, for some support, and again to Karen for beta'ing and being very kind.

Chapter 2: Friends and Questions Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles 

As the two young people strode into the empty and damaged hotel lobby, Dawn Summers looked around in interest. She'd never seen the Hyperion Hotel before, but it fascinated her. So this was where Angel worked. It seemed like a very nice place – she thought about how big it was and wondered how many rooms it had. _How many of them were ever used?_ As she noticed the writing on the wall she dropped her bag and rushed over. _Yes, _she thought grimly, _it was certainly the same language as that on the wall of the Magic Box._ She reached one hand up towards it, and jumped in surprise when Steven stopped her. She hadn't realised that he was that close. 

"I don't think you should touch that," he observed quietly. Dawn nodded.

"You're probably right. It's never a good idea to touch strange markings… I don't know what I was thinking." She took a step back and turned around. "The hotel seems very big for a small detective agency… how many people are in it now, anyway?"

Steven cursed mentally. He wasn't exactly sure how many _were _in Angel Investigations. There was Angelus, of course, and the demon… but he'd seen very few humans in his life, and faces tended to blur together. He could recognise different demons easily, although he was aware most people couldn't tell one fiend from another. Was it three more humans… or four? He began to panic – if he didn't answer soon, Dawn would be suspicious. Think! "I'm not exactly sure – I haven't been here that long, and they're always busy here. One comes in, two more go out…" 

It seemed to work; at least, Dawn seemed to accept his answer, moving on towards one of the offices. But then she stopped suddenly as a thought occurred to her. "Really? Then how is it that they've all been captured?"  
"What?"

"If everyone always in and out of the hotel, then how did a single attack capture them all? A few of them must have escaped, unless the things that did this _knew _when they'd all be in the hotel. And that-" She stopped suddenly as she finished the thought. If the demons had known that everyone was at the hotel, it seemed likely that there had been a traitor. It seemed unlikely, but what if Steven was a spy? _No, _she thought. _That doesn't make sense. _

But it was yet another confusing puzzle linked to Steven, and she was again reminded that she shouldn't trust him. Which was harder than it seemed – he _had _saved her life, after all. Even if she had needed to save _his _lifeimmediately afterwards. _No, _thought Dawn, _I won't finish what I was saying, just in case_. "I'm sorry, I'm babbling. But what I mean is that we should be able to find someone who hasn't been kidnapped to help us, and perhaps give us some clues as to _why_ this happened. She sat down at the desk and opened the top drawer, then smiled and took out a framed photograph. "Ah-hah!"

Steven moved in closer to look over her shoulder at the photograph, trying not to think about just how close he was. _Her hair smells nice, _he thought. Then he focused on the photograph and his eyes widened in shock.

Dawn didn't notice his surprise, but did notice how close he was. She tried not to react, but she didn't really need to. She felt uncomfortable only because she didn't feel uncomfortable. She shouldn't like having someone hovering over her shoulder like that… but she did. It felt… nice. It felt _right. _She looked at the picture carefully, and was mildly shocked._ He looks so happy, _she thought. _I've never seen Angel look that happy. Not ever. _

The photograph showed a group of people all smiling, all happy. Well, not all people. One of them was a green demon with horns, but he was clearly as important and valued a member of the group as any of the others. Dawn recognised some of them – Angel, Cordelia Chase and Wesley Wyndham-Pryce – but the other two were unfamiliar to her. And they were clustering around… Dawn felt another ripple of shock go through her. _A baby? _She thought. _But whose?_

Steven couldn't move, couldn't blink. He couldn't do anything but stare at the picture of… of his family. There wasn't any other way he could think of them. They all looked so happy. Angel seemed so human, so proud. He tried to swallow but it was hard enough just to breathe. His mouth felt completely dry, and his head hurt. They were a family. They were his family. He could see no evil there, no cruelty. Could his father… could Holtz have been wrong? 

_No, _he thought. _I can't think about this. It has to be some kind of trick, or something._   
But for a few moments he felt lost and confused, no longer knowing what to believe. _It's a trick_, he told himself again. But it sounded feeble even to him, like the way certain demons can stay alive for minutes after being beheaded just by refusing to accept their death. He choked off a sob and shook his head, then came back to himself as he realised that Dawn was speaking to him.

"I said, whose baby is that?" 

Steven wanted to tell the whole story. But he couldn't. Not now, not ever. Just because he felt unsure because of one photograph was no reason to lose sight of all that he had been taught. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. It's just… they all seem so happy."

Dawn nodded. "I know," she said, quietly. "It must be nice."

Steven didn't ask her what she meant. "Perhaps they saved the baby from some demons, or something?" he lied, bothered for a second by how easily the untruth slipped from his tongue. Then he stopped, noticing something about the picture. "That man…" he said, reaching forward.

Dawn was a little irritated. It had been so strange to see all of them so happy… it seemed like completely opposite to how _her _life had been over the past few months. The thought of her sister and her sister's friends posing for a picture like this was almost laughable. "Whose baby is that?" she asked Steven. He didn't reply.

She turned to look at him, but he seemed frozen, staring at the picture. "I said, whose baby is that?" she repeated, a little louder this time. Steven seemed to mentally shake himself and answered her question, but then he stopped again and reached forward, pointing at Wesley.

"That man…" he said, "I've never seen him."

"I know him." Dawn said. "He's Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, he used to be… my sister used to know him. If you've never seen him…"

"He must have stopped working for Angel Investigations," finished Steven. "I wonder why."

Dawn opened the next drawer and found what she was looking for – a slim address book. "It's probably not important. I never used to like him that much, but he was good at researching the weird stuff, and he might be able to translate that writing on the wall." She started looking through the book. "Found it. Now all we have to do is get to this address… but first… hmmm."

Steven took a step back as Dawn began looking him up and down, as if assessing him and finding him wanting. "What?" he asked, nervously. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes."  
"Ahh! Umm… what?" Dawn didn't reply, but grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him back into the lobby. "What?" he asked again, aware that he sounded somewhat pathetic. If he'd try to stop her, Dawn wouldn't have had a chance to pull him like she was – but he didn't want to antagonise this confusing, enchanting and strange girl. When they reached the lobby she turned, and looked down at her hand in disgust, noticing that she had some of the demon blood from his shirt on it. She wiped it on a cleaner part of his shirt, despite his somewhat muted protests. Then she poked him in the chest.

"As I remember Wesley, he was a really 'proper' man. I doubt he'd even consider letting in someone dressed like you are, with demon blood all over you."  
"I don't have any other-"

"I thought you'd say that." As he stood still in confusing, Dawn circled him, looking him up and down again. He shifted, made nervous made by scrutiny in a way no demon had ever managed. Then she grabbed him again, and dragged him up the stairs. "I think some of Angel's clothes would fit you, and there has to be a shower up here somewhere. You'll be cleaned up in no time."  
_Angelus' clothes?_ thought Steven in dismay. _Oh no…_

* * * * *

They'd found Angel's room after a few attempts, and they'd found (and Steven been taught how to operate) the shower shortly after that. As Steven washed in the downpour water, he reflected on the fact that this left Dawn choosing clothes for him. It also left him using this strange and unusual device, and as hard as he tried Steven couldn't understand how the 'shower' worked. It fired water – warm water! – at him from a distance above. But how did it get up there? Water didn't flow upwards – everyone knew that.

It was a great mystery.

As he showered, he also found himself thinking of the photograph that he had just seen, although he tried not to think about it. He must not let it affect him. He couldn't. Whatever affection Angel… _Angelus_ had once shown to him, he knew of atrocities and great wrongs that he had committed. He couldn't afford to lose sight of this. He'd owed it to Holtz.

Eventually he was finished (though he had already tried to finish before Dawn told him his hair still had demon blood in it, and then explained the concept of shampoo), and, wrapping himself in towels, walked into Angelus' room. As he entered he was dismayed to see that Dawn had torn through the room like a small tornado, and as he entered she stood up from where she had been sitting on the bed.   
"You took a long time showering," she complained. "I'd think you'd never showered before in your life."

Steven didn't answer that. Dawn pointed to some clothes on the bed, and then left, leaving Steven to get dressed.

Dawn smiled slightly as she left the room. Steven was something of a mystery to her, but the only conclusion that she could draw was that he was some kind of demon hunter from the streets, perhaps homeless. Maybe his family had been killed by demons, or… 

_No, _thought Dawn. _I mustn't drift into flights of fancy. I know nothing about him – but what I do know is intriguing. He may or may not work for Angel, I think he's hiding something. He's strong – the vampire that I killed was only a little stronger than he was. Yet he wears those strange clothes… _

Dawn recalled the feel of those clothes as she'd pick them from where Steven had left him on the floor. They'd felt strangely like leather – but not quite. And the colour was completely wrong. The fabric was subtly different from anything Dawn had ever touched before. 

Yet another Steven mystery to add to the list.   
Then he stepped sheepishly out of the room, fully dressed in the clothes Dawn had picked, and Dawn forgot all about the strangeness of him.

Steven finished buttoning the shirt and stepped nervously out of the door, turning to face Dawn as she did so. She stared at him, unmoving, her mouth open slightly.

"What?" he asked. She didn't reply, but kept staring. "What?" he repeated, more nervously. "Is there something wrong?"

"No!" Dawn said, finally moving and walking towards him. "You look… fine. You look good."

"Really?" he asked raising an eyebrow. "It feels weird."

The clothes that Dawn had picked out for him were a one of Angel's many black shirt and pants sets. Steven was a little smaller than Angel, so the shirt looked baggy on him. That just served to enhance the overall effect. Dawn managed to tear her gaze away from him again and smiled widely. "It's just right! You won't need a jacket because it's not that cold. And you look fine! Really!"

Steven plucked nervously at the shirt. "No!" Dawn cried, zipping forward again and smoothing it down. She realised too late that this brought her far, far too close to him. She shifted nervously, but didn't move away. "Um…"

Steven sort of moved away, then back again, shifting just as nervously as she was. He made a definite effort to move away, and was understandably upset to find that he was actually getting closer. And closer. His head moved towards hers, and his tongue flicked over his lips without him even thinking about it. As her face turned towards him, he focused in on her eyes, and saw something similar in her expression too. His eyes looked down, to her lips…

Dawn jumped as if electrified. "The time! It's getting late! We'll be late for Wesley." She started breathing again but now a few paces away from him. 

"Oh yes…" said Steven, torn between utter relief and crushing disappointment. "We should be going, now that I'm dressed." Dawn flushed at his choice of words, but agreed with the sentiment. 

"Let's go, then."

"Right… no time to waste!"

"Heh… um… we really should get moving."

* * * * *

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce was just sitting down for a (very) late dinner when he heard a knock at the door. This was a great surprise – the only people who ever seemed to wish to talk to him these days were his old friends when they needed something or that appalling Lilah-woman. Who on earth could it be at this time of night?

He walked to the door and looked through the spyhole, planning to ignore it if it turned out to be Lilah, and only answer if it was Fred, Gunn or Cordelia.   
It wasn't any of this, and he was very surprised when he saw instead two… _children._

  
Wesley drew back in surprise, then blinked and checked again as the children – well, young people, really – knocked again. There was something familiar about the girl… then he remembered – she was Buffy's sister, from Sunnydale. But what was she doing in LA? The other boy wasn't as familiar, but there was something about him which reminded Wesley of someone… Wesley was surprised to realise that the young man reminded him of Angel. Why was that? 

He quickly opened the door, and ushered the two inside. "Please, come in. It's good to see you again, Dawn, but I must confess I don't recognise…?"

"Steven. Steven Holtz."

Wesley froze as the name registered. Steven Holtz. Quite suddenly, everything made sense – the familiarity to Angel, the way he seemed familiar, the name – the boy could only be Connor. But how had he grown up so quickly? The answer hit Wesley almost instantly – he remembered from reading Mr. Giles' old Watcher Diaries that Buffy had once told of certain demonic planes she had travelled to where time moved at an accelerated rate. It would make sense for Quor-Toth to be one of those… but that had meant that Connor (or Steven) had spent his childhood and adolescence in the worst demonic dimension, with only the fanatic Holtz for company; it seemed that Holtz had even raised him as his son.

Another horrifying bolt of realisation hit Wesley. If he had been raised by Holtz, the vampire hunter had probably instilled within Connor an equally fanatical hatred of his old foe Angelus. Angel's son, hating him… what Wesley had done to Angel was worse than he could ever have imagined.   
He snapped out of his thoughts, realising that the children were looking at him in worry. He forced a weak smile. "I'm sorry; I'm not used to company much anymore, and I was lost in thought."

  
Dawn looked at him with concern, and Wesley's heart was warmed by the unintentional kindness. "Why don't you work with Angel anymore, Wesley?"

Wesley sighed sadly. "Angel and I had a… disagreement, and it seemed best for all concerned if I left." Which was, he thought, perhaps the most elegant way possible to phrase the horrible series of events that had occurred. "But I doubt the two of you came just to ask that. Why on earth aren't you still in Sunnydale, Dawn? Is something wrong?"

When he mentioned Sunnydale, Dawn looked even more upset; after he had asked the final question, Dawn was on the verge of tears. She hid it well, he noted – yet it confirmed his suspicions that something was terribly wrong. Even so, he was unprepared for what Dawn told him next.

"They're gone. Everyone's gone – missing. Buffy, Willow, Xander; and all of Angel Investigations as well. Steven and I are the only ones left, and we don't have the first idea of where to look. It's lucky for us that we found a picture of Angel Investigations in a drawer at the hotel, and Steven told me that he didn't recognise you from it."

It seemed that Dawn didn't know Connor's true identity. Interesting. Wesley wondered how much _he _knew about _her._

How had they survived so long, if there was some kind of entity or force which had managed to capture everyone else?

"That seems worrying indeed – I don't know what kind of force could do such a thing."

Connor broke in. "At the hotel – and Dawn found some in Sunnydale as well – there was this writing on the wall. It's the same symbols in both places, but we can't read them. Dawn said that you were clever, and we were hoping…" His voice trailed off at the end, leaving Wesley to fill in the blank. They wanted him to translate this demon language – and he tried hard to restrain the pride he felt at the compliment, as he was the only person they had been able to come to for help. 

So… he _had _to help these children – there was no possible question or thought involved. He could never live with himself if he let them leave without doing all he could – the problems and disagreements he'd had with their families were nothing to do with them.

And just maybe, at the end of this, he'd be able to look into a mirror and not be terribly ashamed of the man looking back.

* * * * *

As the three walked away from the building, a figure stepped out from the shadows where she had concealed herself, hatred shining in her eyes. She'd _had _him. Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, Angel's old friend and ally, would have been one of them, completely under her thumb. The possibilities were endless. 

And now weeks of hard work just keeping others away from this opportunity, wasted. Ruined – by a pair of children! It merely added insult to injury that she recognised neither of them. She'd checked everything there was to know, everything the seers and prophets had dug up on this – nothing. No reference to a boy and a girl that matched this description _at all. _

It was as if they'd only started existing recently, or were somehow invisible to psychics and sensors. It was ridiculous.

But…

Every setback was also a new opportunity. She may have lost Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, but if the rumours of Angel's disappearance were true, it was unimportant anyway. Wyndham-Pryce was of limited use without the ability to use him against Angel Investigations… but these children… 

The prophets hadn't predicted them. The seers hadn't foreseen them.

Heads would roll.

And then Lilah Morgan would see _who _these children were, _what _they could do… and _how _they could be of use.

* * * * *

The journey back to the Hyperion seemed to take much longer. There seemed to be some kind of tension between Steven and Wesley, Dawn noticed – Wesley seemed almost… _guilty?_ She couldn't be sure. It was very strange. 

As they passed a darkened alleyway, Steven stopped dead, eyes piercing the dim light and every sense on alert. Dawn froze in place and held up a hand to call the thoughtful Wesley to a halt, years of relying on Buffy's 'spider-sense' to alert her to possible danger coming to the fore. 

"What's wrong?" she asked him quietly.

"There's something back there…" he whispered; then he took off running down the alleyway, turning to beckon her after him. She followed as quickly as she could, pausing only to pull a stake from her belt and throw it to Wesley. He caught it easily, and looked at her oddly. She didn't understand what the look meant.

As Dawn ran on, she began to hear sounds – terrified weeping. Someone nearby was very scared. She reached a branch in the alleys, and then she saw. Her eyes widened. There were four vampires, all male, and their four human 'dates'. Steven was over to the side fighting one, while a girl tried to hide behind him. Another girl was unconscious in the arms of a vampire, and yet another was being held back. The final girl was huddled at the feet of the last vampire, weeping – it was easy to see why, as that vampire was massive; a tall, overly muscled man in his late teens. He was in vamp face and stood watching the battle, a sneer upon his face. As Dawn watched, he reached down and casually began to pull the crying girl up. That wasn't good.

Dawn charged at him, drawing her axe up to hit him solidly in the face. He staggered back, then stepped forward again with a chuckle. 

She kicked him. His laugh stopped abruptly as he was pushed back; Dawn used the space this gave her to swing her axe straight at him in an attempt to decapitate him. She missed – he managed to dodge back a little, and she ended up 'merely' slicing across his shoulders. It was still enough to make him scream in pain and topple over. Dawn turned towards the girl, and helped her up.

"Don't worry, everything will be fine-"

"DAWN! THERE ARE FIVE VAMPIRES!"

_What? How could Steven… _without thinking, Dawn turned towards him, then stopped quickly as from the corner of her eye she saw the girl she had just saved move quickly. Too quickly, and as her face came up Dawn realised that this girl was another vampire. The vampire lunged – Dawn ducked back, and swung her axe wildly, luck and muscle memory letting it strike right through the female vamp's neck. There was an expression of disgust upon her face as she dusted. Dawn relaxed – then remembered the wounded vampire. 

He hit her, hard, and she hit the floor. The axe fell to the floor and was swiftly picked up by the Big Vamp, who seemed to ignore the gaping chest wound. The sneer was gone now, replaced with an expression of blank rage.

  
"Do you realise what you've done?" he screamed. "A human… you killed Kelly!" His voice was deep, but there was real pain in it too. "She was my light, my sire, my everything… on her bones I swear that you will _pay!"_ He grabbed the axe with one hand on each end, and strained. The axe shattered, splinters falling everywhere from the wooden handle. He dropped the broken weapon to the floor. The metal made a loud clang as it hit. It was an interesting illustration of the vampire's strength, and Dawn knew that she couldn't afford to let him close on her. Steven couldn't help her, either; the moment of distraction for his warning to her had cost him dearly, because now he was hard pressed fighting another vampire. And to make things worse, the other two could join in at any moment… things didn't look good.

All of these thoughts flashed through Dawn's mind in a split second as the Big Vamp bore down on her – then he was literally falling on her, dust. Dawn smiled at Wesley.  
"I'm really glad that I gave you that stake." Wesley smiled back at her. 

The tide of the battle was turning – Steven finally managed to finish off his foe, but then the one holding the unconscious girl decided to take care of two birds with one stone. Perhaps a better way of phrasing it would be one bird with another bird. He threw his meal at Steven. Steven instinctively caught her, but was thrown back by the impact, and the vampire charged towards him. Without even stopping to think, Dawn grabbed the axe handle and lunged forward. 

The vampire had been fixated upon Steven, struggling as he was with the girl – as Dawn approached he managed to turn a little, but nowhere near enough. Dust.

Steven put the girl onto her feet, and steadied her, passing her onto the girl who he had saved first. Wesley hurried over to help them out of the alleys, leaving Steven and Dawn to take care of the last vampire.

This one was cleverer. His hold tightened on the girl's neck; she continued to struggle furiously, and Dawn felt a twinge of respect. "D-Don't come any closer!" the vampire stuttered. He tried to back away, towards a smaller alleyway, holding the girl between him and them as a shield. "I'll snap her neck in an instant! Just let me go, and I'll let her go, capisce?"

Uh-oh. That wasn't good. _It didn't seem right to let the vampire go, but they couldn't risk the girl's life. Dawn admitted to herself that she didn't have the slightest idea of what to do in this situation. _What would Buffy do?

No. I can't ask myself that, because I don't know… and I'm not Buffy. I'll never _be _Buffy, and Buffy isn't here. What should Dawn do right now?

_"Okay. Let the girl go, and we'll let you live."_

_"N-No way! I'm not some kind of fresh-risen. You'll kill me as soon as you c-can."_

No, this isn't good.

_* * * * *_

_As Dawn attempted to negotiate with the vampire, Steven examined their surroundings carefully. He felt disappointed that Dawn was prepared to try to reason with a vampire. Vampires were demons. The only thing you could do with a demon was kill it before it killed you. _

_Oh, he could understand what she was trying to do. She was young (_not much younger than you are) _and inexperienced. She still believed in trying to save people, but that wouldn't work. Sometimes, when you fought demons, people died. It was a shame, but they would either go to a better place or receive their just punishment. They were collateral damage. _

_Still, he'd expected better of Dawn. She'd seem cleverer than this, not foolish enough to let a vampire walk away._

_And just because she would, didn't mean that _he _would._

_Dawn had reached a compromise. The vampire would back up, holding the girl, until he reached the next turn in the alley. Then he would let the girl go and run. She'd warned the vampire that if he harmed the girl, they would slay it. The vampire was backing up, and once again Dawn began to relax._

_Then Steven started to run. Dawn had no idea what he was planning to do, but he was risking the girl's life. _

_The vampire was, at this point, backing down a narrower area of alleyway. When Steven began to move he hesitated for a few seconds, not wanting to kill the girl if the human _wasn't _going to kill him, as that would be certain to get him killed. Just for a few seconds. It wasn't long enough._

_Steven used a small pile of trash on one side of the alley to start moving at an angle; he shifted up as he did so, and he managed to run along the wall for a few instants. Before gravity reasserted itself he kicked the wall, pushing off and bouncing to the other side. His right hand held his sword; he extended his left arm, and as he hit the wall he pushed… _and twisted.

_No normal human could have done this. He flipped through the air, spinning and would land directly behind the vampire, in a perfect position to behead it easily. The plan had been to move so quickly that the vampire had no time to react and kill the girl. _

_He wasn't fast enough. The vampire's hands tightened around the girl's neck, and he began to twist, planning to snap her neck. Steven was still flying through the air at this point, and Dawn was too far away. Oh, too far away._

_The girl kicked him. She managed to hit his kneecap with enough power to hurt him, especially because he hadn't expected his hostage to fight back. The vampire screamed in pain. Although the kick hadn't done much damage, it distracted him for a few vital seconds. He began to start grasping her head again, now more determined than ever to kill this _bitch _who had hurt him, but he didn't have that time._

_Steven landed neatly behind him, the sword already swinging, and the vampire felt a sudden sting in his neck and then nothing at all._

_* * * * *_

_Dawn marched over to Steven, an expression of fury twisting her features. "What in the world were you _thinking?_" she shouted. "This girl would have died if-"_

_Steven wasn't prepared to take this, and began to reason maturely with the angry Key. "Do you really think the vampire would just have let her go? How naïve _are _you, Summers?"_

_Okay, so maybe not reason. "You can't just write people off like that. We're supposed to save people, not just kill vampires."_

_"It's the same thing. Do you _really _think that that vampire would have started eating nothing but pig's blood after _you _let it go? How many people are you prepared to sacrifice just so you don't have to offend your eyes with one of them dying in front of you?"_

_For a few moments, Dawn was left completely speechless with sheer shock. She couldn't believe that Steven could say such things to her. While she was distracted, the girl spoke up._

_"Sorry to interrupt, but… who are you two?"_

_Steven looked at her, distracted slightly by the very hurt look in Dawn's eyes. For a moment, he had regretted his words but… they needed to be said. He turned to the girl. _

_"There's nothing to worry about," he said smoothly. "Return to your home; they were just gang members-"_

_"on PCP-"_

_"and they ran away when we challenged them. It may have looked as if-"_

_The girl was even younger than they were, Dawn realised, but she wasn't stupid. She looked at them scornfully. "Gang members? Who drink blood and turn to dust? I'm not stupid just because I'm so young, and anyway, you two aren't much older than me…"  
"And you shouldn't be out this late at night – especially not in LA!" Dawn was aware that she was sounding like Buffy, but she didn't care. It helped to distract her from… what Steven had said. "It's not safe – LA has gang members, drug dealers…"_

_"…And vampires?"_

_Dawn shrugged. "Yes. And vampires."_

_Steven butted in. "How did you know they were vampires anyway? Most people just wouldn't believe it."_

_The girl scratched her head. "I've never been very good at lying to myself. It helped that you called them vampires as well."  
Steven went quiet. "Oh. Yeah."_

_Then the girl smiled widely and skipped forward. "My name's Stacie. Stacie Porter."_

_Dawn couldn't help but smile back, and replied: "My name's Dawn, and this is Steven." She turned and pointed at Wesley. "That's Wesley." He gave a little half-wave, then stopped, embarrassed. _

_For a few moments everyone stayed there, unsure of what to say, then Dawn coughed. "Where do you live, Stacie?"_

_The girl jumped, then started giving directions; although her friends had already charged off, Dawn wanted to make sure _this _one got home alright. Wesley led with Stacie, while Dawn and Steven brought up the rear, Dawn now armed only with her handle splinter.   
"Dawn, this is a waste of time. We should be getting back and finding out where everyone is, not just babysitting this little girl."  
Dawn looked at him. "So we should just let her run home on her own, maybe get killed by a vampire – or just by a normal criminal?"_

_Steven practically snarled a reply. "It's not about that!" He shook his head angrily. "You don't get it at all. She's just one girl. What if the demons that did this are planning to use our families as sacrifices to end the world? (He was so angry that he failed to notice his unintentional reference to Angel Investigations as _his _family.) How many people will die then?"_

_"So it's just collateral damage, right? Let a few people die here or there, it doesn't matter much?"_

_Steven bit back his next furious reply. When he spoke again, he sounded slightly calmer. "There's no point in carrying out this argument. You'll never understand what I'm saying because you're too emotional. You're not thinking of the bigger picture…"_

_The sheer ferocity of Dawn's response shocked both of them. "Don't just write me off like that. Don't ever, Steven Holtz, ever, call me naïve or foolish just because I'm not willing to sacrifice bloody corpses to your 'bigger picture'. There's only one person I'm prepared to let die for the 'greater good', and that's me. I won't kill – or even let someone else die – for prophecy, or for the world. Not again. _Never _again."_

_  
She stomped off, moving faster in what Steven would have called a temper tantrum if he wasn't so stunned by her words. _What had she meant?

_Walking ahead, Dawn knew… it was something she tried not to think of, something she'd always blamed herself for. She wished she could tell Steven more, explain what she meant… but she was too tired, physically and emotionally. Her full story would have to wait for another time._

_* * * * *_

Hyperion Hotel, Los Angeles 

It was some time later that the group of three returned to the hotel, in various stages of exhaustion. Wesley immediately set about trying to translate the writing, but not before giving a quick check over the two younger warriors and ordering them to get to sleep as quickly as they could. On the staircase, Steven paused, and waited until Dawn reached him.

"Dawn, I… I want to say…"

Dawn looked at him, and smiled a little crooked half-smile. "Just forget it. Bad things were said by all, and nothing we say now will change that. All we can do at this point is just try to work together for all of this." She shook her head ruefully. "You were right earlier when you said that we couldn't make each other agree on this. Especially now – we're both tired, hurt…"

"I know what you mean."

"Yeah… you know, we seem to just jump from every different emotion when we're around each other, you know. It's like a roller coaster. _We_ remind _me _Ang-" she stopped abruptly and choked as her mind caught up and overtook her brain, finishing that sentence and considering the implications. Then her mind stopped and went to lie down, being too tired to think of all of this right now, but laughing slightly hysterically as it did so.

Steven looked at her oddly. "What were you saying?"

Dawn shook her head. "It's not important. Come on, let's just get some sleep."

* * * * *

Still later, Wesley stood in the lobby and polished his glasses, trying to process what it meant. As far as he could tell, the writing wasn't any known demonic language, and-

Wait.

He started muttering to himself in Latin, then Greek, becoming more and more worried as he did so. That symbol – the rotated Q – it could only be… and that meant…

They'd been wrong all along. It wasn't a demon which had kidnapped everyone, it was-

No, he shouldn't make assumptions like this. If it was true, this was a major discovery, vitally important. But if it was wrong it would just lead them all down a blind alley. No, he had to be sure. 

Wesley looked at his watch, then at the slowly lightening night through the hotel doorway. If he hurried, he could make it to that occult bookshop with the old Codex and get it back here before the children woke up…

Of course, if they woke up and found _him _missing as well, they'd be rather worried. He should leave a note, just in case; it wouldn't take long at all, but it wouldn't do to scare the two unnecessarily. They'd had difficult enough lives already, and he couldn't entirely convince himself that he wasn't partly to blame for both of it. If only he hadn't been such a damn fool when he'd been Buffy's watcher, maybe-

_No. _This wasn't time to bring up that old problem, and he could do nothing about it now. All he could do now was get that Codex. 

Leaving a note behind him, Wesley hurried out of the Hyperion.

* * * * *

It was much later when Dawn practically skipped down the stairs, dressed in new, undamaged clothes. She'd already been awake for quite a while, but there'd been a rather embarrassing incident involving two sleepy teenagers and the shower, the less said about which the better. 

"Hey, Wesley, did you find anything?" When he didn't answer, Dawn wasn't worried – it would have been silly of her to expect him to stay awake all night, and if Wesley was anything like Giles she expected to find him lying asleep over a big pile of books. She knew he wasn't upstairs – he would surely have been awoken by some of the noises.

It was very strange. He didn't seem to be in any of the offices either. Surely…

Then she saw the note. And read it.

"Hey, Dawn, d'you want a new axe from Angel's supply?" Steven called as he came down the stairs. Dawn barely heard him, staring and the note and not even having to look at the clock.

_Con Steven, Dawn,_

_I've just run out to get a Codex which will hopefully fill in the answers we need._

_I believe I have made a breakthrough – we'll soon know just what we're up against._

_Don't worry; I won't be long. I'll be back well before 9 o' clock._

_Wesley_

"Dawn, where are you?" Steven walked into the office and saw her. He began to say something, then stopped at the expression on her face. 

On the desk, the clock didn't say 9 o' clock at all, but instead half past 10.

"Dawn, what's wrong?" asked Steven, beginning to worry. But Dawn just stared at the note in horror and said nothing.

END OF CHAPTER 2


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